Prince Freya, Vol. 1

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By Keiko Ishihara. Released in Japan as “Itsuwari no Freya” by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine LaLa DX. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Emi Louie-Nishikawa.

One of the habits that I’ve noticed a lot of creators have, particularly in series that have afterwords, is that they can sometimes apologize for the flawed behavior of the main character. Rarely is this an actual apology, it’s more to let the reader know that yes, the author did in fact plan for this character to be weak/annoying/overpowerful/perverse, and that it is a function of the plot, so don’t worry too much about it. We get that here as well, as the author tells us she is aware that Freya is a bit of a crybaby, but to hang in there because the story is about her character growth. What makes this amusing is that the author also starts the book with a startling image of Freya leaping off a giant cliff. Again, this is a fakeout (she looks tragic and doomed, but it turns out was gathering herbs that grow in dangerous places) but it does set up up to see her as bold and fearless… THEN shows us what she is is coddled.

Freya is a teenage girl in “fantasy medieval Europe”, whose mother is sick and whose adopted brothers are part of the Prince’s elite guards. We get a chapter or so showing us her life, where she tends to be sweet but also shy. Fortunately both brothers are awesome, so she need not worry (her mother is also awesome, we are told, despite now being ill). That said, there is a problem. Their kingdom is under threat, and the prince is actually dying. A prince who, it turns out, is a dead ringer for Freya. The brothers have been sent to get her so that she can imperso9nate the prince, but neither of them want this outcome. Unfortunately for them, Freya overhears them and decides to follow them to the castle. She may regret this: by the end of the volume the country is still in great danger both from without and within, and her resolve to impersonate the prince is derailed by personal tragedy and her own skittish personality.

It feels a bit strange, particularly from this publisher/magazine, to have a first volume that is almost all setup. I’m so used to one-shots that slowly turn into series, or stories that appear to be complete but then we get more of when they get popular. Prince Freya, though, is designed to run for a few volumes, and it shows. Freya is an interesting heroine, who is instinctively very brave and bold, but when she thinks about things she locks up and falls to pieces. It’s not helped that she suffers a horrible trauma halfway through the book (I’ll just say that one of her adopted brothers is incredibly cool, nice, loves her, etc. and let you take a wild guess) and that those in the book who aren’t her family are a lot less patient with her hysterics given that the country is in danger. Fortunately, the end of the book sees her acting instinctively, jumping off a building (she really does jumping from great heights)… and ending up accidentally kidnapped. Whoops.

It’s just a start, but there’s a lot here to make readers want to read more. We’ll see how Freya does as prince next time around.

86 –Eighty-Six–, Vol. 4: Under Pressure

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By Asato Asato and Shirabii. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Roman Lempert.

The author brags about how this volume of 86 is much lighter in tone than the previous three, and I guess that’s true? Certainly the first quarter of the book makes a determined effort to be amusing, sweet and heartwarming in turns, with the only big drama being the arrival of Annette and her realization that her childhood friend Shin does not recall her at all, which makes atoning for her guilt rather difficult. Lena and Shin are VERY shippy here, despite the fact that Shin has difficulty getting that sort of thing. Frederica and Kurena play the part of the wacky jealous not-girlfriends to a T. But there is a plot here, which leads to the battle and action sequences, and that’s when the reader realizes that even in the lightest of 86 novels, things are still going to take a turn for the very dark, as we find out exactly what the Legion has been doing all this time, and how hard it’s going to be to defeat them going forward.

After the two-volume interqual, Lena is finally reunited with her former team, and she’s brought friends, as we add to the cast a great deal of the 86 who were fighting with her after Shin and company left and ended up in the Federation. Things are… still not great in terms of the Republic. In fact, they’re still monstrously bad, with lots of “give us back our animals they are not people” racism from their side – 86 has never been subtly about such things, and that doesn’t change here. Unfortunately, just because Lena (and Annette) have reunited with Shin doesn’t mean things are going to be happily ever after. Leaving the Legion aside, it’s pointed out that the 86 have had to cut away everything that is not related to battle in order not to go mad. If Lena wants them to regain that, she’ll just be forcing them to feel the unbearable pain again. Can she live with that? And as for Annette, isn’t this all just about her?

The second two-thirds of the book are an extended battle against the Legion in an underground subway complex with shopping mall attachment, which is annoying to our heroes as their powered suits don’t function as well there. The fight introduces a new variety of bad guy to the stage, and they’re pretty lethal right up front, taking out all of Annette’s bodyguards and almost managing to kill Shin. The exact nature of how they came to be, as well as how the Legion used the republic to get to that stage, I shall briefly gloss over except to say that it was disturbing and also disgusting. It’s well-written, though I was a bit annoyed by the return of the Legion with Kaie in them to taunt our heroes. We already got a sequence where they destroy the possessed Legion and seemingly send her to the afterlife properly, I didn’t need it all over again.

Future cover art makes me think the lighter tone will stick around, and none of the named cast that we remember died here, so in that respect this is a bit of a breather novel in the series. It’s also extremely well-written as always. Fans of the 86 won’t be disappointed.

One Piece, Vol. 93

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By Eiichiro Oda. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Stephen Paul.

Because One Piece has been running for so long, there aren’t a lot of plots that it hasn’t at least taken a glance at along the way. That’s probably why Oda is having so much fun with the time travel angle introduced here, with the long-lost heroes reappearing twenty years later, seemingly the same as before. The eventual beat when they all finally arrive hasn’t happened yet, but we do meet Momonosuke’s little sister, who is now of course a young woman, and also a striking reminder of how Oda loves to contrast ugly men and gorgeous women when he draws. (Or in this case ugly boys.) She’s got a lot going on in this volume, so it’s amusing that the thing I noticed most was Oda mocking shippers in her interactions with the completely sexless Zoro. (To be fair to Zoro, he does get that people would take them sleeping together the wrong way.) And then there’s Toko, which… well, I’ll get to her.

As with previous Wano volumes, the action slips from place to place almost too fast to follow, trying to make sure that everyone gets something to do. This means we get to see Nami and Robin in the baths (and Nami accidentally flashing everyone, which reminds me of her deliberately doing this in Alabasta); Sanji being, well, Sanji; Luffy, still in prison, having to fight off most of the guards one by one for entertainment, and meeting up with an old, seemingly feeble man who of course has a very badass past; and Shopper trying to deal with the fact that he’s now allied with Big Mom, who has lost her memories and thus is bright, cheery and friendly again. Chopper, of course, knows this will only last till her memories return, so spends a lot of the time terrified. (There’s some interesting lettering going on in these scenes to show “girly’ speech – excellent job by Vanessa Satone, the letterer and touch-up person.)

And then we get to the end of the book, where Oda reminds us how well he can have chaos quickly turn to tragedy, with the public execution of Yasu, who turns out to have a secret identity (not a surprise). He’s spent much of the time bopping around the manga dressed up as the stereotypical Japanese jester, with a giant grin on his face. The grin remains even as he’s about to be executed (by firing squad, a particularly dishonorable death in the period that Oda is riffing on here), and there is an explanation of everyone smiling and laughing in the face of tragedy… but then after his death, it turns far too creepy for that to really be the case, especially when his daughter sees his death and can’t stop giggling (as she has the entire book) even as she cries out that her father is dead. The cliffhanger, unfortunately, implies that it may be the One Piece equivalent of drugs at work once more.

So yeah, everything is kind of terrible at the moment. Sure would be nice if we could start a revolution soon. Still, this was a chaotic but solid volume of One Piece, a bit better than the last couple of books.